


Geraskier Odds and Ends

by AnathemaAuthoress



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Drabbles, First Kiss, M/M, Melodrama, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-26
Updated: 2020-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22915177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnathemaAuthoress/pseuds/AnathemaAuthoress
Summary: Just a place for drabbles that are too silly, melodramatic, or brief for full stories. Fun mini-shots for the Geraskier lover that can never have too much content.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	Geraskier Odds and Ends

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt: First kiss

Jaskier, finally at the end of his rope, after years of repressed affection and living on lingering touch, gave in to the impulse that pulled him so thoroughly and so unyieldingly toward such a witless man. “That you would humor leaving with her again after all that’s transpired. I’m–I’m sick with it!” 

It wasn’t like him to raise his voice, but he could see her on the horizon, sitting in a place upon Roach where’d never been allowed, lording over the men below like some horrible, righteous deity. 

“It won’t be forever,” Geralt replied, surprised by the passion on the bard’s tongue.

“Any amount of time is too much after what she’s done to you!”  _ To us, _ Jaskier wanted to spit, but the words died in his throat. He paced back and forth, felt his head spiral. Hands on hips, eyes darting along the ground. Then he turned, came up chest to chest with the witcher so their difference in height became less apparent, so their eyes locked level and dangerous. “I don’t want you to go,” he growled.

“She needs me,” Geralt spat, suddenly offended. “She  _ loves _ me.” Jaskier was so close then, challenging. 

Jaskier’s hands flew up, one tangled roughly in Geralt’s ponytail and the other warmly cuffed his neck. He felt the larger man try to recoil, a reflexive dodge, an uncertain preemptive defense. “She isn’t the only one,” the bard breathed longingly.

At first, Geralt remained rigid, unwilling to lean in or be met, a startled animal trying to sniff out the surroundings. Then, after almost a beat too long, in which Jaskier’s heart began to tighten and ache with rejection, the witcher came to understand what was expected of him. He let himself be pulled in and their lips brushed together, painfully chaste, but so soft and earnest that a bolt of lightning seemed to rupture through them at the slightest contact.

It was a buzzing that Geralt had never felt. He wrapped his fingers around Jaskier’s shoulders with the intent to push him away, but instead drew him closer and deepened the kiss such that it became almost rough. Pressure etched between the confined spaces of their lips and soft groans poured from their chests. 

Just up the hill, still poised to go, a burdened witch could only sigh in annoyance.


End file.
